I suppose a good place to start the story of the Truckers is with how we got into climbing in the first place. Rich and I were friends in junior high school in the mid-60s, and we began hiking on the North Fork of the Skokomish and other hikes in that area around that time, usually with one or more of his eight brothers coming along. The first indication that we were heading toward climbing, was when we hiked to First Divide. Coming up out of the forests into more open country – the beauty of the meadows, and the ability to see a wider expanse, enticed us to hike to higher places.
At that time, there was no climber’s guide to the Olympics, but Rich had an uncle who had gone up Mt. Washington, and gave us a general idea of the route. We successfully ascended it and felt the satisfaction of getting to a summit. But there was also that feeling of anticipation as you’re approaching the ridge leading to the summit, and then the exhilaration of seeing the mountains, valleys, and ridges beyond it that hooked me.
Since there was no climbing guide, we relied on topographic maps and a compass to plan and execute a climb. Sometimes that worked out – sometimes not. There are a lot of details missing on topographic maps. We would start ascending what looked on a map to be a relatively steady incline to find an impassable cliff, or a slope covered with devil’s club. You can see how the concept of a “truck route” would evolve as we took roundabout routes to find our way to summits like Mt. Pershing, or North Brother.
Originally, we saw rock-climbing as kind of crazy, but as some of the summits became more technical, we realized the necessity of learning that skill. We turned to “Mountaineering – The Freedom of the Hills” (1st Edition) for guidance. We went to the hardware store and got a rope and practiced rappelling on Green Mountain, which was close to home for us, and practiced belaying techniques to protect the one rappelling. A couple years later, we replaced it with a Goldline climbing rope from the REI warehouse store on 11th Ave in Seattle.
That store was a trip It was an old warehouse with a strange smell and a lot of stuff at cheap prices. The only other place to get similar gear was Eddie Bauer, which was very upscale. We paid one or two dollars to become members, and bought nearly all our gear there.
· Used Climbing boots - (heavy leather boots with Vibram soles that I used whether hiking, climbing, or rock climbing - $30)
· Steel crampons that would fit my boots (about $15)
· A wooden ice axe – Himalaya Pickel, model Kuno Rainer, made in Austria ($13)
· And lots of other equipment, like nylon webbing, pitons, hammers, gaiters – all much heavier and bulkier than the equipment you see today.
I had a Cruiser pack that was too large for most of our trips, but I got a smaller Jan Sport pack in the early 70s at a discount because I worked at the K2 ski factory on Vashon Island at that time. I haven’t done any serious climbing for quite a while and, except for the ice axe, it’s all been given away. I can’t part with the ice axe – it’s been used and misused, on well over a hundred climbs, and has saved my life on many occasions.
We got climbing pants at a military surplus store for $3. One hundred percent wool, with padded butt and knees, baggy above the knee, and cuffs just above the ankle. I’m not sure which servicemembers wore them, but they were indestructible, warm, and comfortable. You can get a general idea of them from one of the photos attached to a previous post.
My Himalaya Pickel